"Call me Smith, please. I have always respected your sex. All the kindness and sympathy of my life have been for women. And I can lay my hand on my heart and declare that I never yet wronged one of them in thought or deed. The man who is cruel to women is no man." "And yet your friend Reginald Henson is that sort." Rawlins smiled again. He began to understand a little of what was passing in Chris's mind. "Would you mind going a little more into details?" he suggested. "So Henson is that sort. Well, I didn't know, or he had never had my assistance in his little scheme. Oh, of course, I have known him for years as a scoundrel. So he oppresses women." "He has done so for a long time: he is blighting my life and the life of my sister and another. And it seems to me that I have that rascal under my thumb at last. You cannot save him--you can do no more than place obstacles in my way; but even those I should overcome. And you admit that I am likely to be dangerous to you." "You can kill my daughter. I am in your power to that extent." "As if I should," Chris said. "It is only Reginald Henson whom I want to strike. I want you to answer a few questions; to tell me why you went to Walen's and induced them to procure a certain cigar-case for you, and why you subsequently went to Lockhart's at Brighton and bought a precisely similar one." Rawlins looked in surprise at the speaker. A tinge of admiration was on his face. There was a keenness and audacity after his own heart. "Go on," he said, slowly. "Tell me everything openly and freely, and when you have done so I will give you all the information that lies in my power." CHAPTER L RAWLINS IS CANDID "So Reginald Henson bullies women," Rawlins said, after a long pause. There was a queer smile on his face; he appeared perfectly at his ease. He did not look in the least like a desperate criminal whom Chris could have driven out of the country by one word to the police. In his perfectly-fitting grey suit he seemed more like a lord of ancient acres than anything else. "It is not a nice thing to bully women." "Reginald Henson finds it quite a congenial occupation," Chris said, bitterly. Rawlins pulled thoughtfully at his cigarette. "I am to a certain extent in your power," he said. "You have discovered my identity at a time when I could sacrifice thousands for it not to be known that I am in England. How you have discovered me matters as little as how a card-player gets the ace of trumps. And I understand that the price of your silence is the betrayal of Henson?" "That is about what it comes to," said Chris. "In the parlance of the lower type of rascal, I am to 'round on my pal'?" "If you like to put it in that way, Mr. Smith."